


Two shades of gray

by Ujvari



Category: Trolls (2016)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, dealing with depression
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-30
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-25 19:00:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10770432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ujvari/pseuds/Ujvari
Summary: The prospect of getting eaten causes Creek to lose all hope… and there's only one troll who can truly understand.A story in which Creek turns gray and Branch helps him cope.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Well, hello guys :) Instead of working on my big bang projects, I ended up enjoying Trolls a bit too much, thus this fanfic was born.
> 
> Despite the title, this is not going to be a heavy bdsm story with lots of bondage, chains, whips and a master-slave-relationship between Branch and Creek. Although the idea sounds tempting… *cough*
> 
> Please note that I'm not a native speaker, so mistakes are bound to happen. I'm also a slow writer and have a history of unfinished works, which means you better enjoy it while you can. Assuming anyone is even reading this story…
> 
> One more warning: this work deals with **anxiety and depression.** If you suffer from that shit, remember to take care of yourself. This story might be triggering and if you can't stand reading about depressing stuff or have a bad day, you better turn back for your own health. Thank you.
> 
> And now, on to the prologue!

Creek had been frozen with fear as long as he had been in the fake safety of the taco, but once the mouth had closed around him and the realization that he was truly about to get eaten sunk in, his body broke into a desperate struggle.

He shot out of the food just in time before it disappeared down the bergen's throat. Frantically, Creek scrambled as far away as possible, finding nothing but darkness. His breath came in short, uncontrolled gasps while he looked around in panic, fumbling for anything to grab onto, anything that would keep him from getting swallowed.

Suddenly, the slippery tongue underneath him bucked and threw him hard against a row of uneven teeth, leaving him momentarily dazed. Before he had a chance to gather himself, Creek was scraped along the sharp edges and he let out a scream of pain as they dug into his flesh, bruising his skin. He realised in horror that the bergen was rolling him around in his mouth, probably to get the best taste out of him.

As disoriented as he was, Creek barely had time to get his hands in front of his body before the giant tongue pressed him against the hard roof of the mouth, coating him in foul-smelling spit. He pushed back with all his might, trying desperately not to get crushed, but he was running out of strength way too fast.

A pathetic whimper escaped his lips as he was pushed further towards the gaping throat. He knew that, at the end of the tube, stomach acid was waiting to digest him piece by piece and that he would be completely aware of the process. No, this couldn't be happening. Not like this. No, no, no, no!

Hot tears of defeat welled up in his eyes and his chest constricted in fear. “I don't want to die!” he screamed at the top of his lungs. A last shove of the tongue was all it took for Creek to lose his hold and he slid towards certain death. In the next moment, he fell and the world around him spun before he was blinded by a bright light.

*~-~*

“Agh,” King Gristle exclaimed, spitting the troll out despite the fact that he had already been halfway down his throat. “this tastes horrible!”

“What?” Chef asked, sounding incredulous, and leaned over to take a look at the small bundle in Gristle's hand. The troll had curled up into a ball while heavy sobs wracked his shivering form.

“Now, this is weird…” Chef muttered and picked the creature up to lift him to her ear. Soft pleas and silent begs that sounded like _“Please, don't eat me. Please, please don't, please…”_ could be heard and she huffed, causing the troll to whimper and cower even more.

With one last glance, Chef stuffed the pathetic mess into her fanny pack. “Don't worry, King Gristle,” she tried to appease the youth who was regarding her with a clearly upset expression. “I will make sure you get your taste of true happiness at tomorrow's Trollstice.”

“Yeah, you better do,” Gristle confirmed, standing with one hand on his hip and pretending to have everything under control when there was really only one question going around in his head. “Hey, Chef, this one hasn't been gray before, so why is he now?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, there are really people reading this :) Hello everyone! Thanks for leaving kudos and/or comments. So, here we are again. I'm just posting this as it comes, so there will be longer and shorter waits. This was definitely a shorter wait...
> 
> While preparing for this story, I read about Creek in the Villains Wiki and was somewhat surprised. I mean, he's not a villain per se, is he? More like a misguided troll who reacted badly in a life or death situation. I might have done the same in his place, so he's hardly to blame. He even tried to help the other trolls hide from Chef. So, not a bad guy, right? But well, they had to get rid of the love-triangle somehow. I sure hope we get to see Creek again in Trolls 2 in 2020, maybe even as one of the good guys?
> 
> That being said, on to the chapter!

“Poppy, wait,” Branch called after her and the madly dashing Snack Pack, intent on keeping his voice down in case a bergen was within earshot. They were already in the livelier part of the palace and letting them continue to run down the middle of the floor was turning their mission into a plain suicide commando.

Luckily, they all stopped and Poppy's head appeared from behind Fuzzbert. “What is it, Branch?”

Quickly, he caught up with them, looking around for any potential danger. “Does any of you even know where we're going?” he asked, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

Poppy just grinned from ear to ear, nodding so wildly that her hair flopped around. “Of course, we're going to safe Creek! You heard King Gristle, didn't you?”

“I did,” Branch confirmed, although he wasn't completely convinced yet, “and _assuming_ he said the truth about spitting Creek out,” he continued, deliberately ignoring Poppy's accusing look, “the big bergen must have taken him with her.”

“Then let's head to the kitchen!” Poppy beamed, thrusting her fist into the air, and started running again, the others following suit with an approving shout.

Branch resisted the urge to facepalm at their enthusiasm. “No, no, no. Stop!” he put on the brakes again. He just wasn't willing to get his hopes up until he saw Creek for himself, but Poppy was looking at him with such a spark in her eyes...

It took Branch a moment to notice that they were all regarding him with the same expression and he heaved a sigh. There was probably no way he could talk any of them out of their fixed idea, but he had to make them understand that it was never going to work like this.

“Listen, we're too many,” he began, hoping he was doing the right thing. If King Gristle's claim turned out to be a lie, he wasn't sure if he could stand seeing Poppy's heart break - again. “If we go on like this, it's only a matter of time until we're discovered. It's much safer to split up.”

The Snack Pack seemed to agree with his plan, nodding and mumbling amongst each other, and Poppy finally stepped forward. “You're right, Branch,” she said, turning to her friends, “Everyone, head for the Troll Tree while Branch and I get Creek.”

“And remember to keep a low profile. That includes no singing or dancing on the way,” Branch declared in a serious voice, jabbing his index finger accusingly at the group. “Because we're not coming to your rescue again.”

“Branch!” Poppy chastised, reaching out to lower his arm. “So, do you know which way we go?”

“The kitchen's down that floor,” Guy Diamond supplied, pointing them in the right direction. He drew Poppy into a tight hug and, after releasing her, threw an unsure look at Branch who just shook his head, scowling. “Be careful, you two.”

*~-~*

Warily, Branch peered around the corner and into the kitchen in front of him, listening intently to his surroundings. The room appeared to be vacant and he gestured at Poppy to follow him. They ducked under the various shelves and trolleys and used their hair to swing up on the counters once they found a suitable spot.

After taking cover behind a giant pan and feeling Poppy join him, Branch looked around, searching for a place the bergen could have used to keep Creek, and his eyes landed on a cage that was similar to the one the Snack Pack had been locked in. Unfortunately, it was empty. Or was it?

Branch squinted at the small object he could make out in the middle of the cage. The shape looked oddly familiar, but it was hard to tell from this distance. The thing was blending in perfectly with the gray of the cage's bottom, making it almost impossible to identify, but… there was no way…

Branch's shoulders sagged when he realized that he was staring at the lifeless body of a troll. A gray troll. “Oh no…” he whispered. It couldn't be…

“Creek!” Poppy yelled at the top of her lungs and rushed past Branch, causing him to flinch.

Without giving it a second thought, he jumped out of his hiding place and hurried after her, feeling the dread grow with every step. Quickly, Branch caught up with Poppy and placed a finger over his lips to shush her. “Do you want to attract the whole population of Bergen Town, or what?” he hissed, but she wasn't listening.

Poppy was pulling at the giant door of the cage with all her might, calling Creek's name over and over, without evoking even the slightest reaction from the other. He just remained curled up on his side, with his back towards them, and as unresponsive as when they had discovered him.

Poppy whirled, throwing a desperate look at Branch. “Oh my God, Branch, is-is he dead?”

Branch grit his teeth, forcing himself to keep a level head. It would do no good if he freaked out now. “No, I see him breathing,” he tried to reassure Poppy and reached up to grab the scissors from inside her hair. They had worked wonders before, maybe he would be lucky again.

He pushed Poppy aside, gently but firmly, and shoved the heavily bent tool into the lock's mechanism, twisting it around. His ears twitched in the direction of the corridor where he could hear quiet footsteps that were growing louder at an alarming rate. They were running out of time.

After what felt like an eternity, the lock finally clicked and Branch opened the door. He hastened to Creek, with Poppy following right after him, and kneeled down. Carefully, Branch rolled Creek over, scanning him for obvious injuries.

The once yellow pants were smeared with dark-red stains and his partially dirtied body was covered in a dried, slightly sticky fluid that had also clumped his hair together, but apart from that, he appeared to be unscathed.

It took Branch a moment to realize that Creek wasn't unconscious like he had expected him to be. His eyes were open, but, despite being moved around, Creek just stared into space. Only after a while did his eyes wander to meet Branch's before they lost their focus again.

Branch swallowed hard, feeling like he just took a punch to the gut, as old memories flooded his mind. This was definitely not good… Not even Poppy seemed to find the bright side in this situation and he heard her draw in a tight breath. “He's hurt! Is that blood?! No, he can't die?!”

It was apparent by the sound of her voice that she was on the verge of hyperventilating, probably even crying. Branch pulled himself together, fighting back all the painful memories that threatened to overwhelm him. He simply couldn't afford to break down. Not here, not now of all moments. He had to be strong.

“Poppy, calm down!” Branch stood up and grabbed Poppy by her shoulders to snap her out of her panic. “Breathe with me. In and out... Good. And now listen. It's not blood, ok? Blood of gray trolls looks black. Normal trolls' blood looks like a rainbow. It's probably just tabasco.”

He had to admit, Creek wasn't looking too good. He was _gray_ , for crying out loud! But there was hope as long as he was alive. They could still fix this. If only they could make it out of Bergen Town-

“Ok… I'm calm. Tell me what to do.” Poppy's considerably steadier voice interrupted his train of thought and Branch released her, taking a deep breath himself. Slowly, he shook his head, coming to a decision.

“No, let me do this, Poppy. I can handle this,” Branch said, kneeling down beside Creek. Almost gently, he gathered the still troll in his arms and lifted him up bridal-style. “We have to go. Now!”

*~-~*

They had managed to sneak through the entire palace and down the flight of stairs without being spotted, which - admittedly - was a small miracle, considering how many bergens were out and about to prepare for Trollstice.

There had only been one dangerously close encounter where Branch had managed just in time to conceal all three of them with his hair, the black blending in perfectly with their dull surroundings.

Right now, the Troll Tree was within eyeshot and they ran along the sidewalk's curb with their heads ducked. Branch always paid attention to be in front of Poppy, shielding her from view as best as he could. Her bright pink color stuck out like a sore thumb, complicating their advance the closer they got to the center of town.

Finally, they reached the square and stopped at the edge of it, completely out of breath. Branch couldn't believe their luck. They actually stood a chance to make it out of Bergen Town, although the most dangerous part still lay ahead of them. Somehow, they had to get over the open area where it was impossible to take cover.

“Shh…” Branch whispered, scooting closer to Poppy, as a group of bergens passed them by.

It was Poppy's turn to fan out her hair, matching it with the color of the pavement. They watched from behind her strands, not daring to move in fear of making a telltale noise, waiting for the right moment-

“Okay, go! Run!” Branch urged, relieved that Poppy for once did what she was told, and followed after her as fast as he could.

Against all odds, they were still undiscovered by the time they reached the dead tree. Branch threw Creek, who was slowly but surely getting heavy, over his shoulder and started climbing.

Only when they had reached the treetop did they stop to catch their breath. “Almost…” Branch muttered, glancing at the giant hole that marked the entrance to the root tunnels, and transferred Creek back into his arms. “Come on.”

“Poppy, wait!” Someone yelled behind them, causing Branch and Poppy to freeze up.

Branch turned around, not trusting his own ears. That voice just now… And sure enough, Cooper's head peeked out from behind one of the Troll Tree's dead branches. “What are you still doing here? Didn't we tell you to leave?” he hissed, completely bugged out when the rest of the Snack Pack stepped out of their hiding place.

Satin was the first to recognize the gray bundle in Branch's arms and she gasped loudly, clapping both hands over her mouth. “Is that-”

“Creek!” Chenille interrupted and, suddenly, they all came running towards Branch, who was hit by a sudden burst of panic.

Instinctively, he backed off, holding Creek closer in an attempt to protect him. “Don't!” he barked, deciding that attack was the best form of defense, and the Snack Pack actually stopped. He could clearly see the shock on their faces, but they didn't have time to explain this whole dilemma now. “I will not repeat myself again: _What_ are you still doing here?”

They were all looking between Branch, Creek and Poppy, obviously unsure what to do with the situation. “We can't just leave Bridget like this, can we?” Biggie finally piped up, hugging Mr. Dinkles, while the others nodded their consent.

“You can't be serious...” Branch deadpanned. He had expected to hear a lot of things, but not this. Never this. There was no way anybody could be this naive-

“No, guys, you're right. I was thinking the same,” Poppy agreed, stepping towards her friends.

Branch couldn't believe his ears. It took all his willpower to resist the urge to throw his hands up in despair. They just risked their lives sneaking through Bergen Town and now? “You really want to go back?”

They were all looking at him like he was the crazy one. “She deserves to be happy as much as we do,” Poppy said slowly, as if it would explain everything.

Branch drew in a sharp breath, feeling like he had just been stabbed in the back, but did his best to not let his hurt show and, instead, opted for irritation.

“Fine. Go and get yourself eaten!” he half-yelled, feeling Creek flinch in his arms, though he couldn't tell whether it was because of the volume or the words. “If you really have a death wish, I'm not going to hold you up!” He turned his back to the group, unwilling to see them run towards their doom with wide open arms.

“Branch,” Poppy said in a placating tone. “I know you're angry-”

Branch lowered his ears, scowling even harder into thin air. At least he was able to bite back any mean comment about how little she knew about him. It would do no good to hurt Poppy as well… What was the point of turning away when he could still picture her standing there, with her hands clasped in front of her body and that pleading look on her face...

“-but please promise me that you'll get Creek back home safely.”

“Tch, whatever,” he spat, wondering if Creek was all she really cared about. Letting his gaze drop, Branch noticed that Creek had turned his head slightly to hide his face in his vest and his anger subsided, making room for sadness. The gesture was small, but revealed just how vulnerable Creek had to feel at the moment.

“Branch…”

Closing his eyes and taking a few deep breaths, Branch turned back around, scrutinizing Poppy with a composed look that he knew wouldn't expose the emotional rollercoaster he was experiencing. “Ok, I promise!” he snapped, a bit harsher than intended. ”Satisfied?”

“Yes, thank you, Branch,” Poppy beamed and rewarded him with a bone-crushing hug from which he couldn't even pretend wanting to escape without dropping Creek.

Branch just hoped he wasn't biting off more than he could chew...


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand we're back. Hello, everyone. Thank you so much for leaving kudos and/or comments! The feedback was overwhelming! You're all making my day. Hopefully, the update will be to your liking, too.
> 
> I had actually planned to get started with the comfort/healing part in this chapter, but decided to split it up, because it was getting too long. Oh well, this story is growing and growing...
> 
> My mom's reaction to Branch regaining his colors: Hm, he wasn't very colorful to begin with, huh?

It was already late afternoon by the time Branch stepped out of the old escape tunnel and he blinked repeatedly, blinded by the brightness. His anger at Poppy had worn off by now and made room for a gnawing worry to take over.

It had been dumb to let them head off on their own and Branch was heavily regretting his decision. Sure, he had said that he didn't care about what happened to them, but he knew deep down that it wasn't true. He was really torn between taking Creek home like he had promised or simply hiding him somewhere safe and hurrying back to rescue Poppy and her friends - again.

With a small grunt, Branch laid Creek down next to his hiking backpack that he had accidentally left behind while chasing after Cloud Guy and started pacing in front of the tunnel, worrying his lower lip.

If he went back without a proper plan, there was a high chance of them all ending up in a bergen's stomach and that would result in Creek's death, too. Branch knew from experience that the other wouldn't be able to take care of himself in the near future. He still remembered vividly what it had felt like to lose his colors all those years ago and the debilitating feeling it had brought along. The void in his chest had been numbing to a point where he hadn't even been able to move on his own.

Branch stopped to look - really look - at Creek for the first time. While his own skin was more of a gray-greenish tone, Creek's was definitely dark gray, almost black even. His hair, on the other hand, consisted of a light gray with yet brighter tips. His eyes were still open, but he was just staring blankly ahead, and Branch's expression saddened.

No, it was irresponsible to leave Creek alone in this condition. He had no proof that he could do anything for Poppy, but he could definitely do something for Creek.

Having come to a decision, Branch looked around, thinking of a way to transport Creek safely and without wasting too much energy. He still had a long way to go before reaching Troll Village and his arms already felt like they would fall off. Of course, he could always wrap his hair around the other and carry him like this, but that was only his last solution. If he needed to defend from danger, having his hair free was a matter of life and death.

Branch's gaze landed on a nearby tree and he walked over, searching until he found a crack in the surface. He grabbed onto the splintered bark and pulled with all his strength. With a loud _snap,_ a piece broke off and Branch fell backwards, landing on his behind with a suppressed yelp.

He got back up, glaring at the tree before he inspected his acquisition. The piece was about his height, relatively light but sturdy, and would do just fine. Rather pleased, Branch returned to Creek, who still hadn't moved, and placed the item on the ground next to him. He reached for his backpack and unstrapped the sleeping pad and blanket, spreading the former over the bark.

Digging into his bag, Branch produced two ropes from it, and knotted them to the right and left edge of the slightly curved bark. Dusting his hands off, he stood up, looking at his improvised sled, and gave a curt nod.

Branch turned to Creek and, for a moment, he thought about speaking to the other, but decided that it was probably a wasted effort. He was certain that Creek was aware of his surroundings, hearing conversations and such, but didn't care about what was going on. At least, that's what it had been like for Branch...

Shaking his head to rid himself of the unwanted memories, he stooped, lifted Creek back up and placed him on the bark, paying extra attention that Creek was lying on his side so he could stay in the fetal position he had assumed. Branch covered Creek with his blanket, making sure it wouldn't fall off later by tucking him in, and shouldered his backpack.

He hesitated one more time, glancing into the depths of the tunnel and perking up his ears in an attempt to catch even the slightest sound, anything that would suggest that Poppy and her friends had changed their minds… But the tunnel was just as quiet as before. If he wanted to make some headway today, he had to get going now.

With a determined expression, Branch grabbed the ropes and started pulling.

*~-~*

Branch had really hoped he would make it out of the snowy part of the forest before nightfall, but he was advancing slower than anticipated and now here he stood. In the middle of nowhere, with nothing but snow, ice and howling wind around him. He had been searching for a place to stay for the night for the last two hours and finally found a boulder with a crevice that opened out into a small cave.

It was pitch-black and freezing cold inside, with the wind blowing snow in through the opening, but he wasn't picky at this point anymore. Everything was better than staying outside. Branch pulled Creek after him and moved as far away from the entrance as possible, tousling his hair to get rid of the flakes. Completely worn out, he plopped down and sagged against the hard stone, closing his eyes for a moment.

God, he felt miserable. Not only exhausted, but also hungry and cold. But he couldn't afford to rest just yet, no matter how much he wished for it.

Groaning, Branch cracked an eye open and glanced at Creek, whose hair was the only thing peeking out from underneath the blanket. Branch had made sure that the other was properly covered once the temperature had started to drop. Their clothings just weren't made for such weather.

With a sigh, he leaned over and pushed one hand under the snow-covered blanket to check whether Creek was getting too cold, but everything seemed to be fine.

Somewhat eased, Branch opened his bag and retrieved a dried mushroom from it, taking a bite to satisfy his growling stomach. He chewed thoroughly, albeit listlessly, trying hard not to think about a freshly made, steaming hot soup and how great it would taste right now.

Sadly, his chances of getting a fire going were next to nothing. Even if he dared to go back outside in the darkness to collect wood, it would still be hidden under a thick layer of snow and sparking a flame on frozen wood was difficult, even for him. It would also produce a lot of smoke that would fill the cave up in no time. No, making a fire was definitely out of question.

He shoved the last piece of food into his mouth and swallowed, already worrying about the upcoming night, where the temperature would only continue to decrease. Creek was probably going to be fine, the snow on the blanket acting as a perfect isolation, but it was another story for Branch.

Now that he wasn't moving around anymore, the cold was quickly getting to him. His teeth were already chattering and he glanced at Creek again, who looked rather comfortable under the blanket. _Branch's_ blanket.

“Stupid promise…” Branch muttered under his breath, pulling his knees up and rubbing his upper arms to preserve what little warmth he had left. He knew enough about camping in the wilderness that it was clever to always bring a sleeping pad and blanket, but who could have guessed that Creek would end up hogging both of them? He couldn't even use a leaf as a makeshift cover since they were all frozen solid.

Grumbling silently, Branch lay down on the hard ground, using his bag as a pillow, and curled up, hoping to get at least a little sleep. For tonight, he would have to deal with the cold, like it or not. “Stupid promise…”

*~-~*

Creek dreamed...

He was standing in the middle of a giant lake, engulfed up to the waist in green-glowing water that was steaming slightly, although it wasn't uncomfortably warm. Looking around, he waded through the strangely viscous fluid, searching for anything he could use as orientation, but found nothing. The calm surface of the lake just stretched on for as far as he could see.

Judging by the darkness that spread out over him like a blanket, it had to be in the dead of night, not a single star lighting up the pitch-black sky. It was eerily silent around him, not even the quiet, constant buzz of the forest could be heard. Or any sound at all. Actually, it was like all life around him had simply ceased to exist...

Unease began to spread in his veins and his breathing sped up. He continued to walk through the slime, picking up his pace. His legs were already hurting from the exertion, screaming at him to stop, but he couldn't. Something inside him was urging him on to keep going, no matter the cost.

He had to get out or… Or what?

A shudder ran down his spine and, all of a sudden, he felt hot and cold at the same time, like he was standing in the middle of a snow storm with a high fever. Creek raised his arm to wipe the cold sweat from his face, but stopped dead in his tracks when he caught sight of his hand.

His skin was melting off his bones, dripping down his fingers and revealing the raw flesh that lay underneath. It was in this moment that Creek realized why exactly his legs were hurting so much and in what he was standing: acid. _Stomach acid._

Panic exploded in his chest, throwing him in a full-blown fit of hysteria, and Creek screamed at the top of his lungs. He stumbled back, his legs giving out underneath him, and he fell, submerging in the acid that clashed above his head.

He struggled with all his strength, trying to get back to the surface, but he was sinking further and further into the depths of the bergen's stomach. He couldn't move anymore, he couldn't even scream. All he could do was watch in helpless terror as the acid ate away at his body, the pain becoming unbearable. Bit by bit, his skin, muscles, ligaments and organs dissolved, until nothing remained besides his bones. Only at the very end did his conscience vanish.

And Creek was no more…

*~-~*

Creek woke with a start, disoriented and paralyzed with fear. His heart was beating a mile a minute and his breath came in short, labored gasps. He was in a narrow, dark, stuffy and silent place and his panic spiked.

It took him a moment to realize that he was still tucked away under Branch's blanket and not about to be digested. He was not in immense pain and he was not about to die. It had been nothing but a bad dream. A horrible, terrifying dream that had been dangerously close to becoming reality, but a dream still.

His racing heart calmed down a bit, although the fright wouldn't leave his mind just yet. He glanced at his shaking hands, making sure they were really unscathed, and was met with gray skin. Gritting his teeth, he stared at the ugly color and the dark black aura surrounding his clenched fists.

Creek closed his eyes, unwilling to look at himself any longer. What was the point in living such a life anyway? Maybe it would have been better if the bergen had eaten him after all...

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you enjoyed and let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome.


End file.
